The Designs of Destiny
by Raegwen
Summary: Ellesmera, a 20 year old Nord, does not want to be the Dragonborn. But as Alduin continues his rising she must accept her fate and fight to defeat the menace, but can she do so without losing who she is or hurting the ones she loves?
1. Chapter 1

The Designs of Destiny

Screams. Screams and burning orange. These are the main aspects of my recurring nightmare depicting my parents' death by Alduin, the mightiest and fiercest dragon to ever live. It was an honorable death for them I suppose, one worthy of honorable people just trying to earn a living as lowly Nord farmers. I'm only alive today because they had hidden me in a shallow cave in the nearby mountainside after they had heard tale of a dragon terrorizing villages less than a week's ride away. I hadn't stayed long though; as soon as I'd heard the beats of his wings fade away after the attack I ran back home as fast as my little 7 year old legs could take me, arriving just in time to see my parents succumb to the smoke and flame. My father's best friend, Niruin, took me in and raised me in the Thieves Guild, teaching me the ways of the archer and thief. It was a good life- at least until I grew up and my friends started looking at me differently. At 17 and almost six feet tall with a lithe body conditioned with years of battle training, long red hair, and bright blue eyes, I was a prime candidate for marriage, but I would have none of it. I grew weary of marriage proposals and gullible victims to my thievery, and after saying good bye to the people I had grown up with, I took to the roads with my best friend Serana. That was three years ago, and now at 20 years old, I'm suddenly having these nightmares again, and neither thousand-year-old Serana nor I can figure out why.

Currently, we're camped outside of Wolf Skull Cave, following up on rumors of necromancers as a favor to the Jarl. The amount of magic in the air here is so palpable, you could cut it. I'm lying on my bedroll contemplating the nightmare when Serana speaks from across the fire. "Ella, you should see someone about those; you've started screaming and almost rolled into the fire."

Groaning, I rub my eyes and stand up, mumbling, "I know, I know." Shadowmere nuzzles me when I walk over to him, offering him his breakfast of carrots. I sense Serana behind me, and I know without looking up that she's not going to let the issue go so easily this time. Putting her hand on my arm and gently turning me to face her, she looks at me with concern.

"There's a mage at the Blue Palace, when we get back I'd like you to talk to her," she pleads me; "It can't hurt." I snort. Yeah, it could. That woman hates me. I trained with her once about a year ago, and that was one session too many- we just didn't get along. There is no way she would agree to help me, and even if she did, I wouldn't want her anywhere near my head. She'd probably do something to screw me up even more.

"Can it wait until we get to Whiterun? At least the court mage there doesn't know me personally yet…" I respond. She stares at me for a moment, as if deciding something.

You know…" She hesitates, "Vampires don't get nightmares." I freeze. Immediately she starts backtracking, "I'm just putting that out there! Never mind, I know we've discussed that before, I shouldn't have brought it up- I'm sorry!"

I sigh, moving to placate her. "Its fine, I know you mean well. Trust me, I've thought about it, but it would prejudice too many against me when I need them most. Not to mention, I really like the sun." I wink at her, grinning slightly. Seeing that she's relaxed a bit, I turn to start cooking breakfast. Soon, the scent of sizzling pork fills the air, joining and mixing with the ever-present aroma of horse, leather, and sweaty bodies, somehow creating a pleasant smell.

This is my favorite kind of morning- waking up as the sun rises, illuminating the sky with brilliant purples, pinks, blues, and gold's, the radiant light filtering through the leafy canopy above the camp. Birds flitting from branch to branch, filling the air with the beautiful melodies. The underbrush wet with dew, the flowers looking as though they have diamonds set in their petals, and the heat from the fire pleasantly warming my face as I listen to the sounds of nature around me, the music rising and falling seemingly at random. I don't ever voice these whimsical observations aloud of course; Serana would never let me live it down.

I've been staring at the fire as I mull over my thoughts, and now I turn to don my ancient falmer armor- a gift from Serana after I first helped her escape her murderous father. It was time to take care of a pest problem. Stalking into cold, damp caves has never been my most favorite thing to do, and I'm cursing in my head as Serana follows me into the dimly lit depths of Wolf Skull Cave.

*_Thunk* _another of my arrows finds its mark in between the last draugr's eye sockets.

"Bull's-eye," I mutter to myself, standing from my crouch and motioning the all-clear to Serana behind me. Looking up, I not the mages don't seem to have moved at all from their places in the summoning circle on top of the keep. Bright blue light shone from something suspended in the air in the middle of the circle, with blue tendrils connected to it from various points around the stone chamber. Unfortunately the necromancers were too far away for my bow or I'd shoot them from where I stood on an overhang across the cave, overlooking the courtyard of the keep.

Climbing down and sprinting across the square, rocky yard with Serana close behind, I pull out my sword. This sword has saved my life more times than I can count; with a dragon bone blade sharpened to a deadly point and a hand-and-a-half hilt, it fit me perfectly. I got it from an old crone whose cellar I had cleared of skeevers- I doubt she knew its worth, but I wasn't going to argue.

I run up the stairs, skidding to a halt as three of the mages appear at the I even have time to charge them, and ice spike flies past me-nearly hitting me- and impaling the left-most mage and throwing him backwards. I whirl to look at Serana.

"Oops, sorry!" She grins at me. Laughing, I turn back to the task at hand. The remaining two mages haven't run screaming in fright unfortunately, instead choosing to glare malevolently and ready their spells.

"You'll die for that!" One of them roars, throwing a fire ball at me. Dodging it easily, I leap at him, gutting him in one move and whirling to finish his friend with a thrust through the abdomen. But even as I go to keep moving, something stops me.

The mage, an elf I see now, is spitted on my sword, but not dead yet. As I look up into his eyes, I suck my breath in. His eyes were black, black as the deepest night and seeming to glow from within with malevolent light, bright despite his imminent death. I stand stock still, frozen in shock. It somehow comes as no surprise to me when uses his last remaining strength to pull his mouth up to my ear, caressing it with his breath before whispering his divine message.

He utters five words. Five words that rock me to my very core and increase my rapidly growing suspicions;

"You are the Dragonborn."


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, I sit on a stool staring into the fire as I recall the memory of those eyes and their message, the sounds of the Winking Skeever filing the air around me fading from my notice. Those black eyes… I don't know why, but they seemed almost familiar, like I'd seen them on someone before… A memory tugs at me, but it skitters away like an elusive bug as I reach for it. Just when it seems I'm about to catch it, I feel a hand in my pocket.

"Move another inch and I'll cut it off," I growl, drawing my dagger and turning only to pull up short the moment my eyes meet those of the would-be thief.

"Hello, Lass." Brynjolf smiles, brushing his red-brown hair out of his eyes- a familiar nervous gesture.

"Bryn…" I breathe, the dagger dropping from my fingers and falling to the wood floor with a metallic clack. "Bryn!" I tackle him in a hug, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. He hugs me tightly, and I can feel him smiling into my hair.

Eventually pulling away and holding me at arm's length, he searches my face with concern evident in his eyes.

"How are you, lass? Where's Serana? Is she okay? And why of all places are you in Solitude?" he questions me.

"She's fine, off getting us a room. I'm still alive and kicking, obviously, and as to why I'm here, it's just where my feet took me," I say. "I could ask you the same thing, old friend. Is everything alright with the guild?"

"Everything is still running smoothly, but we miss you. I miss." He gazes at me with hope in his green eyes. "Come home Ella, please."

I look away and try to logically consider his decision. Do I really want to go back there? Back to a life of petty crime- but also back to my friends and the place I called home. Besides, my work here was done. I'd already checked in and received my reward from the Jarl for clearing the cave.

I look back at him, and sigh in defeat, reluctantly answering him, "Okay, Brynjolf. I'll come back. But I can't promise I'll sta-" Before I can get all the words out he's wrapping me in a bear hug and spinning me around, shouting in triumph. Laughing at his theatrics, I exclaim, "Bryn! Put me down this instant, or I'll feed you your boots!" He does so, but only after buying a round for the entire tavern in my honor.

An hour later Serana joins us at our table in a back corner, where Brynjolf has been filling me in on everyone back home. Setting down three bottles of mead and sitting, she shoots me a knowing look.

"So, we're going home, huh? When are we leaving?" She aims the question at me, but Brynjolf jumps in with an answer. "Tomorrow morning!" He shouts, waving his bottle around in the air and throwing an arm around me.

"More like the day after," I counter, glancing at the 4 bottles already littering the ground around his feet. Brynjolf squeezes my shoulder and leans in conspiratorially, "Come now, lass! We both know that I can hold my liquor!"

Chuckling, I dig an elbow into his side and shrug him off. "Bedtime, Bryn. Unless you don't want me to go with you tomorrow…"

He tries to glare at me but doesn't succeed, smiling widely after only a second. He winks at me, then stands up to leave- only to stop after a few steps. Turning to look at me, he opens his mouth but I beat him to it. "…Bedtime. Alone." Grinning, he winks at me one last time and disappears upstairs without another word, leaving me alone with my best friend.

"So…." She draws the word out, staring at me with the intensity of a thousand years' wisdom. "How long have you known each other exactly?"

"There is nothing going on," I say in protest, "We're just good friends who've known each other since childhood." I glance up the stairs, feeling my face heat up. Talos- why does my face always give me away?! I hastily wave a waitress over, a pretty wood elf who seemed really nervous about something- shaking hands and all, in an effort to divert the attention from myself.

"Another round for us please," I say, smiling kindly. It's obvious it's her first day, or something of the sort.

"Ah..uh, right away miss!" She scurries away to fetch my order. Upon turning back to Serana I realize that she has not fallen for my haste to change the subject.

"And you're now rushing to deny it despite the fact that I have not accused you of liking him. Interesting..." She smirks at me, knowing she's won.

Groaning, I fold my arms on the table and bury my face in them. "Please don't say anything to him," I mutter.

Standing up, she stretches and looks around. "I'm going to sleep. You should probably should too- big day tomorrow!" Laughing to herself, she turns away and heads to her own room, leaving me to my thoughts. The waitress brings me my mead, and I sit there for a minute making a list of supplies needed for tomorrow in my head. Eventually I get up and start walking towards my own room on the second floor. Suddenly my face begins to feel very hot, and my stomach feels...peculiar...

Oh no. Frantically looking around for help I latch on to the nearest person, whom happened to be the waitress from earlier. "Please... help..." I manage to gargle out, my vision getting dimmer every second. The last thing I feel is my head hitting the floor as I lose my grip on her arm, watching as she laughs.


End file.
